Colburns you fiend!  How did you manage to translate all that soft
chattering and clicking I hear late at night??  In fact now instead of
throwing away the used newpaper they relieve themselves on, I can give
them to you to desipher, for I am almost positive they are the blueprints
to my destruction.  On that same token, I found my cd player in peices
on the floor last night.  It seems one of my little angels (whose name
rythmes with 'bapoleon') deliberately broke the only thing that keeps
me sane when I scoop poop and clean dog kennels all day long at work.
If followed closely, I'm sure you will find this is the thread that
will ultimately lead to my unraveling.
 
Goodspeed, Colburns.  Godspeed.
[Posted in FML issue 5088]